Left Behind
by Reformed L'Cie
Summary: Some people can't accept the world the way it is without those who sacrificed themselves to create it
1. Left Behind

**Lieutenant Lightning stared up at the dark outline of Cocoon, tattooed against the otherwise unblemished night sky. She spent much of her time contemplating it, whether awake, or in dreams. **

_Has it really been six months since we brought the world, kicking and screaming, to its knees? Since we ushered in a new era for these people, whether or not it was what they wanted?_

Lightning winced and silently chastised herself. She knew that wasn't the way it had happened, that even thinking that way was a disservice to the people who had really lost something during the struggle. Still… she couldn't keep her eyes from gravitating back toward Cocoon, seeing in it the possibilities of the many futures it held. The many futures it could have held.

They had called that period the Exodus, though in reality, most citizens of Cocoon had chosen to remain there, even in the aftermath of its near-destruction. They _preferred _life the way it was, their fates being chosen for them, their needs attended to by the benevolent Fal'Cie. The ones who didn't, or the ones who had no place left, they were the ones who had participated in the Exodus. They had rehabilitated the ruins of Oerba into a working city, without the help of the Fal'Cie. They purified their own water. They grew, raised, or hunted whatever food they needed. It was a life carved out by humans in a world shaped by gods.

Artificial sunlight generated within Cocoon streamed out of the monstrous rift in its shell, but at this distance, it was nothing more than a soft glow on the landscape. It was only if you looked closely in this condition that you could see the subtle refractions of the crystal pillar suspending the enormous sphere miles above the surface of Gran Pulse, like the hand of a god, protecting it from the harsh world below. Lightning smiled bitterly, seeing the irony in that image. _Hand of god, my ass. _

Lost in thought, Lightning barely noticed the sound of footsteps on the balcony behind her. Her hand instinctively darted to the gunblade hanging in a sheath at her hip, but forced herself to turn around calmly instead of following her first urge, which would have been very unhealthy for the young soldier that now stood in front of her, locked in a rigid, albeit nervous, salute.

"Lieutenant Farron," he said in an admirable effort to sound unintimidated, "Unit 3 Scout Sergeant Orric reported some Cie'th activity near the Broken Highway…" His voice trailed off slightly. Lightning noticed his eyes were focused on the silhouette of her hand, which was still gripping the handle of her weapon tightly. She let herself relax and her hand dropped down to her side. The soldier noticeably exhaled a sigh of relief, then immediately regained his composure and reaffirmed the rigidity of his salute. Lightning brought her palm up to her face and dropped her head into it in exasperation for a moment, before reaching out and gently but firmly pulling the man's hand away from his temple.

"Come on," she said, walking past him toward the staircase that led to the base level, "show me."

She mused on the young private's reaction to her, which was regrettable, but unfortunately not without merit.

In the aftermath of Cocoon's fall, the Sanctum had been shattered. With Barthandelus, Orphan, and anyone else with any real stake in controlling it destroyed, it had been unofficially dissolved. Due to the extreme distrust most of the populace had toward the former Sanctum soldiers, most had either decided to join the Exodus, or join the Guardian Corps, which was now the sole protective force for citizens on both Cocoon and Pulse. Initially, Lightning had feared she wouldn't have a place in the Corps any more, due to her image being broadcast widely during the events that led up to Orphan's destruction with her being branded a L'Cie traitor. She actually had her former superior Amodar to thank for that. He was still a respected member of the Corps, and his word, along with her exemplary service record up to the Purge, got her sergeant's status restored to her. Since then, her unwavering devotion to protecting and setting up a colony on Pulse and her efforts to assist the citizens during Exodus had gotten her promoted to overseeing the Oerba security force. The first few months, however, had been rough for her regiment. Her experiences during the Purge had made her hyper-aware of soldier uniforms, and since her life had many times been saved by her own reflexes when endangered, she had a tendency to act on instinct, leading to some minor injuries within her jurisdiction. Also adding to some of the soldiers' unease was the fact that while most of her L'Cie abilities had faded with the brand, she still retained some control over her old powers. These things didn't get in the way of her command, especially since they helped make her the strongest Corps member stationed on Pulse, but they did sometimes cause her subordinates to get a little nervous.

Lightning stepped out of the front doors of the Guardian Corps Oerba HQ with the nervous private in tow and shivered slightly. It seemed colder than it had only moments before when she was standing on the balcony. A light breeze seemed to have picked up and her long pink hair swayed like a shimmering waterfall down her back. The long lock that swept over her left shoulder started tickling her face. Maybe she was just noticing the weather for the first time now that she was less distracted by the crystalline monolith to the southwest. Her bare legs prickled slightly at the touch of the cool air.

She normally wore a skirt into battle, and today would be no different. Pulse seemed to have fluctuating periods of hot and cold weather, unlike Cocoon, and she had considered changing her normal uniform to include pants, but most of the officers already commented on how masculine they thought she was (not to her face, of course), and she was already more than comfortable fighting in skirts despite the occasional chill she received while wearing them.

She double checked that her gunblade was secure in its pouch hung behind her from a belt around her ribs, and gestured for the private to lead the way.

On the outskirts of the city, where many of the buildings were still in substandard condition, is where they found Sergeant Orric. He was crouched amid the rubble with a viewing lens trained on the wrecked wall of an old highway that used to span a great portion of the Pulsian wilds. Lightning had crept behind him quietly enough that when she asked for a status update he seemed to freeze solid for a moment before regaining himself. He turned and began a salute, but stopped midway when he saw the irritated look on Lightning's face. She had told them all many times that she didn't like to be saluted, but it seemed to have some trouble sinking in. He quickly began to speak.

"Lieutenant, I've spotted up on the highway a Cie'th that matches your description of a Vampire. My unit did not engage because from what your intel shows here, we don't really stand much of a chance without your… skills. Ma'am." He hastily threw the last word in, Lightning presumed, to try and show that he was not at all disconcerted by her limited use of magic. It just punctuated his feelings even more.

Lightning wore a puzzled and annoyed look on her face. "How did it get up there? I thought we had Velocycle patrols combing the highway."

"It must have crawled up there from the ruins," the Sergeant said grimly. "I checked the Cycle Units' patrol schedules myself and they didn't miss anything."

"Fine," Lightning said dismissively. "I'll go in first, don't fire until I give an order. I want to try and keep this as quiet as possible. These people work hard, and I don't want to have to wake them up for one Cie'th, got it?" Orric nodded knowingly and handed Lightning the viewing lens, gesturing in the direction of the target. The enhanced electronic photoreceptors in the scouting visor clearly outlined the threat to Lightning. It was near the highway ruins, just as Orric had said, shambling nowhere in particular. The Vampire was a twisted, wretched humanoid form, its body covered in rough chunks of black crystal, its face warped into some sort of death mask from which two red pinpricks dully gleamed. Lightning lowered the lens and handed it back to Sergeant Orric in somber silence.

She had been like that, once. Well, it may have technically been an illusion, but she had felt it, all the same. She had felt the veil cover her mind, felt her body tear and blister, felt the hunger and the hopelessness and the endless cruel despair. It may have only been for a few moments, but it was enough to imprint the sensations into her mind forever. She had been close – too close – to actually becoming one of those things. And those responsible for her standing here now were…

It was best not to dwell on that. The only feeling she had room for now was pity for the monster before her. She stood and stalked silently on an intercept course toward the Vampire, her hand once again finding the comfortable grip of her gunblade. Squeezing the weapon tightly was like therapy for her. It was the one thing that always stayed by her, the one thing that was certain and sane in the world. _Really, _she mused, _it's the only thing that I've always stayed with. _

She was close, now; mere yards from the monster. Vampires had a weakness to magic, a talent that only conscripted L'Cie could wield. Ever since Lightning had become free of her bondage her powers had waned, but not disappeared. Since she and her companions were the first humans in history that she knew of to have ever survived the L'Cie transformation completely intact, it was an area where there was obviously little knowledge, and even she could not explain how she could still control the elements to a degree. She also noticed that it required a greater level of concentration to get the same results she had, and was more taxing on her. Still… she did what needed to be done.

Lightning closed her eyes and began focusing her thoughts, gathering her strength. The air around her became thick with energy, swirling invisibly, drawn into a single spot. She could see it in her mind's eye, the power flowing into her. Her will was a funnel and her hands were the vessel.

Her eyes flared open, crackling with energy. Her vision was dominated by the twisted mouth of the Cie'th, locked in a silent shriek two inches from the tip of her nose. Caught by surprise, the power she had been gathering was gone in an instant, but the only outward sign she showed that this wasn't her plan all along was a single muttered word:

"Damn…"

The Vampire let out a horrific howl that split the air around Lightning into atoms. She threw her hands out in front of her in an attempt to ward off the shriek, but it permeated her entire being. All of the pain and rage the creature felt was embodied in that one unearthly sound. The silence afterwards was almost as horrible, as if the Cie'th was waiting for some sort of answer to the wordless question it had asked.

"So much for keeping this quiet," Lightning muttered. Even as the Vampire lifted the gruesome cudgel that was supposed to be its arm, Lightning had already leapt to the side and drawn her weapon, a fearsome looking gun with forked blades along its body. The Cie'th's attack ineffectually crashed down in the place where Lightning had been, and it turned toward her new location much more quickly than its ponderous form appeared to be capable of. Lightning brought her weapon up to face level with the enemy, and squeezed a trigger on the handle. Instead of firing, the body of the gun flipped on a pivot, extending into a wicked black forked sword; she called it the Ultima Weapon. She had constructed it herself from parts she had found on her journey, but it in no way looked like anything less than a legendary monster slayer.

"Ready on my signal," she whispered.

The Vampire half-lunged, half-stumbled toward her, flailing its thick, crystal-hardened limbs in an almost haphazard way. Lightning lithely skipped by the beast and struck twice in quick succession, her attacks doing little more than carving thin slivers of the crystalline material from the creature's hide. She scowled slightly and growled into her comm unit:

"Now."

Two sharp staccato thumps sounded from behind her, and two streaks of light slammed into the Vampire's torso, nearly blowing it completely off of its foot-like appendages. Anti-vehicle weaponry, which used to be for piercing armor on Cocoon, couldn't even knock this hollow man down. But it did give Lightning the few moments she needed. A purple light flickered down the length of her gunblade, and before the Vampire could even recover from the ballistic assault, she had already plunged it hilt-deep into its skull. Electricity danced down Lightning's arm and through the creature's body, causing it to convulse even more wildly than it normally did. Despite the fact that smoke was beginning to rise from its head, it still managed to make a half-hearted swipe at Lightning, connecting with her right side. She did not wince visibly, despite the fact that nobody could have seen her in the darkness anyway, but it still caused her more pain than she would expected an actively cooking Cie'th would be capable of inflicting. Angrily, she tore the blade from the monster, taking with it half of the creature's head. Sparks and molten brain matter spewed from the wound as the Vampire collapsed in a smoldering heap. She could hear who she knew was Orric running toward her to assess her possible injuries. Curtly, she held up her hand to stop him.

"Clean this up", she ordered. "I have someplace… forget it. Just clean it up." She tried stomping away before Orric could respond, but her first step surprised her when it nearly winded her with pain from her ribs. Even the tiny gasp she let escape her lips was enough for the tenacious Orric to latch onto.

"Lieutenant!" He leaped over the smoking body of the Vampire to reach out for Lightning. "We have to—" Before he could finish his admonition Lightning had spun around, grabbed his wrist, and shifted his mass so suddenly he found himself lying in the shrubbery, staring up at his very unimpressed superior. She was even more intimidating from this angle. Although… he had heard rumors that she didn't wear anything under that battle skirt of hers, and despite the compromising position he found himself in, he couldn't help but try and catch a quick glimpse and see for himself. Lightning's expression turned from one of severe annoyance to a sort of depressed eye roll and she just stomped off, leaving him embarrassed and more than a bit fearful of the future retribution he might receive. As two privates helped entangle him from the underbrush he watched as Lightning made her way back toward the town proper, and silently cursed the fact that the rumors were wrong.

Lightning's mind was already miles away from the incidents of the night, if she had truly even been thinking about them as they were happening. Roving monsters, curious soldiers, and even the stabbing pain that stole her breath as she walked were all distractions in her mind. As she made her way back to town she found herself once again standing before the Guardian Corps HQ. She stopped momentarily, lingering in front of the lit entryway.

She turned purposefully away, knowing full well that it would be the last time she saw this place for a long while.


	2. Not Quiet Enough

"**You're hurt," came a small but steely voice from the darkness of the hallway.**

It was spoken in a half-caring, half-judgmental tone that Lightning was well familiar with. She cursed silently to herself and turned slowly around to face her accuser. A wisp of silvery-white hair was all she could see of him, but she knew precisely what expression Hope Estheim was wearing – suspicion.

"You're awake," she said stoically, deflecting his concern. "I didn't think you'd be up yet."

"I wasn't," Hope retorted. "You were clomping around like an Oretoise out here. That's how I knew you must have been injured. You're never that loud"

"I'm fine," Lightning lied, while internally chastising herself for being so clumsy. "You should get some rest. It's still dark out."

Hope stepped forward into the dimly-lit kitchen of the Estheim household. A young boy of only fifteen, he had a wisdom in his eyes that spoke of one beyond his years. Despite the fact that it was still very early in the morning, he didn't appear to be dressed for sleep. He was wearing thick pants and a black long-sleeved shirt that didn't quite obscure the faded l'Cie brand on his wrist. Lightning could even see a black strap fastened around his chest, holding what she presumed must be some sort of weapon at his side.

"Fine…" he echoed skeptically. His left hand shot up and two fingers jabbed Lightning in the exact spot they needed to in order to cause her to visibly wince, and she looked away to avoid having to see his victorious expression.

_I remember when we first met so clearly; he was such a timid boy, clinging so fast to his lost mother. He's come a long way since then, that's for sure. _

"I thought l'Cie could heal themselves," Hope said, his voice laced with sarcasm. Lightning looked up and saw he wasn't smiling.

"I'm not – _we're _not l'Cie anymore."

"Speak for yourself…" Hope trailed off, and as he did so his brand flared a bright yellow, clearly visible even through his clothing. A burst of verdant light flew from his outstretched arm and enveloped Lightning's body. Her ribs instantly stopped aching and her breath returned to her with a hungry gasp. Hope smiled wanly.

"I didn't…" Lighting was lost for words. She had been staying in the same house as Hope and his father ever since she had come to Pulse, and not once had she ever seen him use his l'Cie magic during that time, but the proficiency he demonstrated in healing her wound seemed just as great as it had been during their fight with Orphan.

"It's easier for you," Hope said. His eyes did not leave hers. "You were already strong, even before we were branded. I'm-"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me," Lightning interrupted. "But… you could have told me."

"Well it's not easy!" His eyes flashed angrily. "You have a place here. People have to listen to you. They need you. Nobody needs me."

"Hope…" Lightning reached out for his shoulder, and while he visibly flinched, he did not pull away.

"I'm not looking for sympathy, Light." Hope's voice was unwavering. "It's just… the way you looked at me when I used that magic. It was like you didn't even know me." He saw Lightning begin to respond, but he cut her off. "It's okay. I'm fine." His gaze showed Lightning he was sincere.

_He was right about it not being easy. Nothing ever is._

When Oerba was first recolonized after the Exodus, Bartholomew Estheim and his son, Hope, were among the first few citizens to establish a home there. As an official of the former Sanctum, Bartholemew had no real ties left to Cocoon, and had been eager to help other disillusioned and displaced Sanctum employees begin their new life on Gran Pulse. As soon as he had told Hope his decision, Hope knew exactly where he wanted to go. There were many locations being settled on Pulse, but he knew Lightning was stationed in Oerba and had demanded that they find a home there. Bartholemew was a natural leader and a compassionate man, and was soon elected to represent the civilian population in the region. Hope had asked Lightning to stay with them soon afterward. She was living in Corps barracks at the time, so she had accepted his offer. It had been four months since then, and Hope had not once hinted at his difficulty adjusting to the Pulsian lifestyle.

_Just like him, keeping his thoughts to himself while they ate him from within. I've seen it happen once, and it was by the Maker's grace that it didn't turn out worse for everyone. Much worse…_

A sound coming from Hope's father's bedroom signaled that he, too, had awakened. A moment later Bartholemew was standing in the same hallway Hope had been but a few minutes ago, a middle-aged man with a grey mane, squinting slightly, partially due to the dim light and partially due to the fact that he was without his usual glasses.

"Hope?" he questioned groggily. "Lightning? I was under the impression you were on duty tonight. Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, dad, there is," Hope interceded, without taking his eyes off of the rose-haired soldier. "Light is leaving." Lightning grimaced slightly, but she was more annoyed that her departure was playing out this way than she was surprised that Hope knew what she was up to. Bartholomew was a bit more taken aback.

"Leaving?" It was still early and he was struggling to keep up with developments. "What does he mean?" Lightning could tell that he knew exactly what Hope had meant, but needed to hear it nonetheless. Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.

"Fang," she stated simply. "She needs me. I'm living a life I stole from her." Her voice picked up tremulously. "This was her dream, to rebuild Gran Pulse, and I'm here instead of her because I wasn't strong enough to do what needed to be done!" She had thought about this speech so many times it should have no longer held any weight for her, but she still found herself feeling the same anguish and sickening self-doubt she felt every time she remembered those events. "I won't let it end this way for her. Or Vanille."

Bartholemew nodded gravely. He had seen this day coming, but he still had one more question.

"Why now?"

'_Why now?' The real question I should have to answer is 'Why not earlier?'_

"The Guardian Corps is set up here. You're here. I've done my part, and I've kept them waiting long enough, Mr. Estheim." Her voice came out harsher than she had intended, but she had no wish to put this issue to a debate.

"Well then," Bartholemew wisely did not belabor the point. "Please, take whatever supplies you need. I will inform the Corps in the morning that you have taken your leave. Hope," he gestured to his son, "Let's not keep her any longer." Hope turned toward his father with an incredulous look in his eyes.

"Are you kidding? I'm going with her!"

Lightning nearly leapt forward. "Like hell you are!" She appeared ready to attack the _concept _of him coming along with her gunblade.

"Hope!" pleaded Bartholemew, "Lightning will be better off on her own. She's a trained soldier, you're a young boy!" Hope glowered at him. A wispy amber aura began to emanate from him, to his father's astonishment.

"That didn't stop me before. And Light –"He spun to face her, "They're my friends, too. You're not the only one who wants to help them." Lightning appeared to stiffen for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh.

_If I were to be honest with myself, _she thought, _I would probably realize that I was counting on this all along._

"He's right, Mr. Estheim. And truthfully…" she looked around the room for anything to distract her eyes, "I could use his help. I'm still not sure exactly what to do when I do find them. Don't worry." Her vision flashed to Hope for a moment. "He can handle himself. Plus, he'll have me watching his back." Even if Bartholemew had had reservations about the endeavor, he knew trying to argue with either one of these two was usually a losing battle, and with both of them dead set on their decision, attempting to stop them would have been akin to trying to slay a Behemoth with a fishing rod.

"Very well," he said stoically. "I know Hope will be okay. You have accomplished much together, and I trust you. Both of you." He said the last statement pointedly for his son, and Hope smiled in response. Tentatively, Hope stepped forward and awkwardly hugged his father. Bartholemew stood stunned for a moment then clutched his son tightly. A few moments passed, and Hope was ready to detach himself, but found it difficult to do so due to the viselike grip his father was exercising on him.

"Um, dad?" Hope's voice was buried in the fabric of his father's nightgown, and Bartholemew became aware of his limbs and relinquished his son, face slightly red with embarrassment.

"We'll be back soon, dad." Hope smiled again. He turned and walked toward the front door.

"But," Bartholemew stuttered, "don't you need to pack something?" Hope opened the door to reveal a blackness beyond, marred only slightly by the first timid streaks of dawn. He turned back toward the two of them and smiled slightly.

"I've got everything I need." And he was gone, leaving Lightning and Bartholemew standing in the vacuum of his absence. Wordlessly, Lightning scooped up the last few things she needed and turned to follow, but stopped short at the exit.

"I know you're worried," she began, half-turning to regard Bartholemew, "but this won't be like before. We're not fugitives. No military to worry about this time." Hope's father gave her a beleaguered look.

"I hope you're right," he replied.

_I wasn't._


	3. Once A Terrorist

**It had been a long and difficult path circumventing Taejin's Tower, but in Lightning's opinion it was worth it.**

The ancient tower was filled with a ridiculous array of eldritch fiends and deadly traps, and neither she nor Hope had any desire to brave them unnecessarily. There was an elevator inside that, in theory, could have cut half a day from their journey, but it was linked to a needlessly complex music box-style puzzle, and it couldn't be trusted not to deposit them in the midst of a dozen battle robots. The relatively tranquil paths of Sulyya Springs were easily traversed by the two companions, and they had bypassed the dank tunnels of Mah'habara using a shortcut they had found during their first visit to Gran Pulse.

Technically, she needn't have left Oerba at all, but the next military transport leaving for Cocoon wasn't for weeks, and she knew there were civilian flights leaving from Vallis Media nearly every day. She hadn't the patience to sit around any longer than she needed to, and to her, action was always better than inaction. The journey was rigorous, but l'Cie (or _former _l'Cie, as she kept forcing herself to remember) had an advantage in the fact that their brands acted as some sort of energy source, precluding the need to stop to drink or take in meals. Since Cocoon's fall Lightning's brand had faded significantly, but she still needed only one meal a day to remain functional. However, Hope had confessed to her earlier in the day that he hadn't eaten in over a week.

_The lighter side of slavery. _A hollow smirk shaped her lips, but quickly dissolved back into a puzzled scowl. The very pace of their l'Cie fueled trek is what made her next realization all the more troubling.

"We're being followed," she stated matter-of-factly. Hope halted in his tracks and looked at Lightning confusedly, but she merely gestured for him to continue walking. "They've been tailing us ever since we left Oerba."

"Who? Where?" Hope struggled with the urge to peer over his shoulder and find the mysterious person to whom Lightning was referring.

"I'm not sure," Lightning said grimly. "And I'm not sure why, either. Which is why I'm planning to find out." Her pace became more brisk as they approached the canyon path that would take them to the Archelyte Steppe; Hope nearly had to jog to keep up. The canyon walls got lower as they moved through it, and by the time they had gotten to a spot where the canyon took a steep 90-degree turn to the right, the left face was a mere twenty feet high. They rounded the corner quickly, and were greeted by an odd spectacle: a giant silver wolf-like Humbaba locked in a deadly struggle with an equally giant King Behemoth.

_Déjà vu, _Lightning thought. _I swear there's some sort of animal fight club happening here. Still, this will be a perfect distraction for an ambush._

"This is it," she declared, stopping and turning toward her young partner. She surveyed the scene for a moment before pointing at a spot at the top of the canyon wall. "There."

Lightning and Hope picked their way out of the canyon, taking care not to disturb the bestial brouhaha in the process. In return they were greeted with a view of the sweeping green expanse known as the Archelyte Steppe. A sharp cliff on their right culminated in a several-hundred foot drop to a vast expanse of vibrant plateaus and valleys, occupied with a dazzling array of creatures both predatory and peaceful. A similar vista stretched out before them beyond the end of the fairly narrow pass they were occupying, but instead of continuing on toward the savage landscape, Lightning had them double back until they reached the top lip of the canyon, with a perfect view of the majority of the fissure they had recently traversed.

"Keep your head down," she bade Hope, and he responded quickly. Lightning found a spot where the lip of the crevasse had a natural fissure, and stretched herself out face-down on the sun-dappled grass. Very slowly, she reached behind her and pulled the Ultima Weapon out of its sheath and sighted it down the canyon, using the fissure to cradle the barrel. She allowed herself a long, deep breath, which she exhaled with audible deliberateness.

"And now," she sighed, "we wait."

And wait they did.

Hours had passed since they had first taken their posts at the top of the canyon wall. Hope was reclined against an outcropping, idly tearing blades of grass from the ground and pulling them apart piece by piece before releasing the dissected bits of them to the wind. The King Behemoth had long since seized victory (and a hearty meal) from the Humbaba and was lounging in the sun, swatting away the hand-sized insects that had come to claim their portions of the winnings. Lightning's readiness had not flagged, but she was angry at herself for wasting so much time on what had turned out to be a wild Chocobo chase. If not for her inherent stubbornness, she would have abandoned this position long ago, but she was not ready to admit that she had been jumping at shadows.

_No, _she reprimanded herself. _I was NOT seeing things. There had been someone… right?_ The disgust she was feeling toward her own lack of confidence instantly evaporated into vindication when a lone figure entered the far side of the canyon, waking at a leisurely pace toward their position. Their gait did not speak of a one who was tracking someone, but Lightning had not lay here for hours to chalk everything up to her own paranoia. Hope had not noticed the intruder yet, and Lightning had no intention of risking their advantageous position by alerting him.

As the figure grew closer, Lightning began to pick out details. It was a man, and if she had to guess, she would put his age at approximately the same as her own. _5'10", maybe a little taller_, she mused. He wore loose fitting olive-green pants tucked into his boots, and nothing on his torso but a sleeveless white shirt. Windswept auburn hair fell around his face, and he walked with a litheness that belied his muscular frame. In fact, he seemed to be sauntering along so casually that Lightning would have assumed he _was_ in fact on a walkabout had he not been sporting a belt laden with what appeared to be two dagger sheaths and various other mechanical artifacts that clearly were not designed for measuring the temperature of the air. Lightning allowed him to get to the point where he was almost immediately below them before her voice pierced the afternoon air.

"Stay where you are!" Her voice carried an authority that few other twenty-one year old women could muster, and Hope jumped so hard he nearly careered forward off the edge of the precipice. The man hardly seemed alarmed, however, and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun so he could get a better look at his accoster. He smiled casually.

"Hey there, Beautiful," he called up to her. "Sure is a fine day to be alive, isn't it?" Hope's head peeked above the rise to appraise the stranger. "Out for a walk with your son, I see?" Hope scoffed and looked to Lightning for her rebuttal. She merely squeezed the trigger once. The canyon wall a few inches to the left of the man's head spewed pebbles.

"Who are you, and why are you following us?"

"Follow? You? Why I do believe you're mistaken. Although you couldn't blame me if I were following you, could you Beautiful?" He grinned widely, clearly unfazed by her warning shot. She made no immediate reply, so he continued on. "I see you're skeptical. Well allow me to explain. I appraise land for various groups, and I'm out here scouting suitable sites for outposts for the GC. That's Guardian Corps, in case you were wondering. Just an independent contractor doing his job. Name's Chazwell Vayne. Vayne, like vein, but spelled different, y'know? Now how about you stop trying to carve your name into the landscape and we can both go our separate ways. Or the same way, if you'd prefer, Beautiful."

"Enough!" Lightning did not care for his smug attitude one bit. "Stop calling me Beautiful, or I'll…" she stopped yelling mid-threat when an image entered her mind. "Wait – I've seen you before. In Oerba. Private contractor nothing, you're Corps!" Truly, she had not recognized him out of uniform at first, but she clearly recalled seeing that idiotic grin on a number of occasions at the Oerba HQ. He had not been in her squad, so she had no idea what his name was, or even what unit he was assigned, but she was sure it was him.

"Now tell me who you really are and why you're out here, or you can limp back to HQ with a bullet in your ass!" The man, still smiling broadly, shrugged slightly.

"Okay, you got me. My mother is the only one who calls me Chazwell. Most people know me as Seraph. The ones that survive, anyway." Lightning pulled the trigger again, but was an instant too late, for he had already taken two agile steps forward and leapt, high enough to clear the twenty-foot wall she and Hope were perched on. She barely had time to roll to the side as he kicked the cliffside where her gun was notched on his way up, causing rock and dirt to rain down on her as her gunblade landed far out of her grasp. Seraph landed with a grunt between where Lightning lay weaponless and where Hope was standing near the cliff's edge. He appraised her with that same casual grin as she propped herself up on her hands, furious that she had let him get the drop on her.

"Okay, well I truly am sorry for calling you Beautiful. Clearly, the sun was in my eyes." His callous insults were almost as grating to her as his compliments had been mere moments before. She had obviously underestimated how dangerous this man was.

"Come on," he tilted his head slightly. "You couldn't have thought that the military was just going to let you run around doing whatever you want! You're one of the most dangerous fugitives to have ever lived! They let you have the Lieutenant position in Oerba to try and put your violent behavior to good use, but they're certainly not going to give you free reign. Especially since they – I – know what you're trying to do." He sighed heavily. "Once a terrorist, always a terrorist, I suppose." He began pacing idly. "You know, I was just supposed to follow you, and if you tried to enter Cocoon, prevent you. But you had to go and mess that up. So now I guess I'll just have to take you and your babysitting charge back to headquarters and let Yuan decide what to do with you." The name he mentioned held no weight in Lightning's memory. Seraph gestured toward her.

"Okay, let's go…" he paused and placed his hand on his chin in a pose that Lightning supposed was trying to imitate someone thinking. "Well, I can't call you Beautiful anymore, so how about Lumpy! Let's go, Lumpy! Up and at 'em!"

"SHUT UP!" Hope shrieked wildly. His weapon pouch was empty and in his hand was a gunblade, edge shimmering dangerously in the mid-afternoon sun. "Just shut up! I'm tired of listening to your voice!" Hope was seething. "And I'm not going to let you talk to Light like that!"

Hope attacked with surprising speed, but the slash was wild – unpracticed – and Seraph's nimble dodge caused the stroke to fall far wide of the mark. Before Hope could recover from his miscalculated, rage-fueled attack, Seraph seized his wrist and wrenched it back, eliciting a cry of pain from Hope as the gunblade fell quietly to the grassy soil. Lightning used the brief distraction to quickly spring to her feet, but she was still without a weapon, and Seraph was holding Hope dangerously close to the canyon's edge.

"Now," he growled, significantly less amused that he had been, "are you going to come along or am I going to have to motivate you?" He punctuated his words by twisting Hope's arm violently. Hope cried out in pain.

_This man is clearly a sociopath. I can't risk not doing what he says… who knows what he'll do to Hope?_

Before Lightning could acquiesce, Hope responded for her.

"She'll never listen to someone like you," he choked out. "She's stronger than us." Seraph pulled Hope's face close enough to his own that their foreheads touched, and he spoke to him as one would speak to a misbehaving toddler.

"Quiet son, adults are talking." He shoved Hope away from him and lashed out with a vicious side kick, which caught Hope full-force in the chest.

"No!" Lightning lunged forward, but was too far away for her actions to do any good, and she watched helplessly as the force from the attack flung Hope over the ledge into the canyon below. Seraph turned to Lightning and shrugged sheepishly.

"Kids, right?"


	4. Zero Winged Angel

**Lightning was on top of Seraph before he could even draw his weapons, unleashing a flurry of blows that set him back on his heels.**

He guarded the two punches that were aimed for his face, but a brutal knee strike hit him square in the midsection, stunning him just long enough to allow Lightning to dive for Hope's discarded gunblade. She grasped the handle in mid-roll and came to her feet in a defensive stance. Each of Seraph's hands gripped a wicked looking knife, held blade down, and he was standing in a martial posture, one hand held out in front of him and one hand close to his body. Hope's gublade felt clunky in Lightning's hands, heavy and unbalanced, but she'd adapt quickly.

_I'll have to._

Seraph leapt at her, sans his usual banter, and his right blade darted out quickly in a horizontal slash. Lightning parried it rather easily, but before she could counterattack, the other knife was already whistling toward her from a wide angle. She leaned back, the edge narrowly missing her face. A quick low thrust forced her even more onto the defensive. Again and again she deflected or dodged his strikes, but the sheer speed at which Seraph's attacks came, one after the other, coupled with the encumbrance of the clumsy blade gave her little doubt as to the outcome of the fight if she didn't take a risk. She needed an opportunity.

Seraph quickly spun into a crouch and his left-hand blade stabbed out for her thigh. Lightning barely managed to leap over it. Seraph's spin continued into an uppercut slash with his right hand, while she was still mid-jump. She was forced to bring the gunblade down to deflect it, and she landed in an awkward, indefensible position, unable to stop Seraph's straight kick from connecting with the left side of her rib cage. She grunted audibly, but did not flinch.

_Now._

Lightning swung the gunblade down onto Seraph with both hands, before he'd even fully recovered from his kick, and he desperately flung both blades up to block the attack. Metal came together in a screeching clang as both warriors put their full strength into the clashing blades. Their faces were not more than a foot apart as they each vied for position. Despite the fact that Seraph was perspiring with effort, his face broke into a wide grin.

_He's _enjoying _himself, _Lightning realized, dumbfounded.

"You think that was fun," Lightning's eyes flickered dangerously, "then you're going to love this." Power burst from within her and electricity danced across her body and down her sword, transferring through the crossed blades into Seraph's weapons. However, instead of coursing into him, the electrical energy danced across the surface of his skin and was absorbed into one of the devices attached to his belt. Lightning's surprise allowed him to press the advantage, and suddenly she was the one struggling against his strength.

"Come on!" Seraph exclaimed excitedly. "I know all about your 'l'Cie powers'. I mean, the name 'Lightning' is pretty damn telling, don't you think? Although…" He pressed harder, forcing Lightning back even farther. "All the stories about you being a l'Cie, and nobody has ever even seen your brand. I have to admit, I'm curious." Sparks flew off of their locked blades. He was close – close enough for her to smell his breath. "If I had to guess, I'd say it was right here." With his left-hand dagger still crossed with Lightning's weapon, his right hand flew to the neck of her sweater, and before she could even react, tore the zipper clean off. Tiny metal teeth scattered everywhere, and the neck of her sweater flopped limply open to her sternum revealing her modest cleavage, and more significantly, a twisted white tattoo-like symbol emblazoned on the center of her chest.

"Ha!" Seraph laughed exultantly. "I can see why you kept those hidden. The brand, too!"

Lightning's face twisted into a snarl. At this point she'd rather had been facing down Lindzei himself than this sneering, arrogant fool.

Lightning subtly squeezed a trigger on the handle of her sword and the blade flipped inward, transforming back into its gun form. All of Seraph's weight that had been pressing on the weapon threw him off balance as the gunblade collapsed into itself. Purely on reaction, he drove his right-hand dagger into the mechanism of the gunblade as it shifted, leaving it stuck halfway between modes, grinding its internal gears against the foreign object. He took the opportunity and lashed out at Lightning with his other dagger. Lightning dropped the useless weapon and spun into a dodge which changed into a spinning kick that caught Seraph in the cheekbone and sent him stumbling backward. A sharp pain shot through her and she looked down to see three thin parallel cuts on her left bicep, blood freely running down her arm. Seraph had recovered from the kick and was standing ready, minus one dagger and with a laceration under his eye already starting to swell, but still bearing a large, toothy smile. Lightning inspected his remaining weapon more closely and saw that it was not an ordinary knife he had been using, but one that bore three blades mounted together, which explained her odd wound. Her blood dripped visibly from their keen edges.

"Okay," Seraph said, mock-wearily. "_Now _are you ready to come quietly? Because to be honest, I really hope you say no." Lightning warily took a few steps back.

"What do you think?"

"You know, I wasn't completely honest with you earlier, and I feel terrible about that." He dropped his fighting stance and stood relaxed, almost as if he was at the home of a good friend speaking on the subject of the weather. "I'm not GC. I'm PSICOM."

Lightning's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Seriously," he continued casually. "Just because we aren't wanted anymore doesn't mean we are going to fold up and die. Truth be told, you can get away with a lot more once people no longer think you exist." His smile quickly disappeared. "Do you know how many of my comrades I watched you kill? You and your ridiculous group of l'Cie monsters? I volunteered for this mission just so I might get the opportunity to shank you and your little friend. PSICOM and the Corps may sincerely be afraid of what you'll do to Cocoon given half the chance, but I couldn't care less about that rock. I'm just here to make sure you suffer."

"You first."

Lightning waved her arm and three shimmering orbs of light burst from her palm. Seraph rolled to the side with disarming quickness, but the trajectory of the Ruin magic adjusted to follow his movements. He began running, ducking, and dodging, attempting to evade the destructive missiles, and Lightning used the opportunity to sprint toward her Ultima Weapon, still lying uselessly in the tall grass. She had to cross fifty feet of open ground to reach it, and the distance felt like three times that as she darted across the open plain. She could see out of the corner of her eye that Seraph had managed to dodge two of the ruinous orbs, but one still remained doggedly on his tail. As she neared her prize, she saw Seraph leap high into the air as the final orb exploded harmlessly beneath him. Still at a dead run, she reached out her arm to grasp the handle of the rifle.

A glint of metal in the sunlight caused her to retract her hand instinctively, and one of the three blades from Seraph's knife buried itself into the earth where her wrist had been, shot by what must have been some sort of heavy spring-loaded mechanism. Still under the effects of her forward momentum, she slid past the Ultima Weapon and reached back with her other hand to grasp the handle. In one fluid motion, she scooped up the gun, spun, and fired.

Seraph, still in midair when the gunfire hit him, spiraled wildly and slammed into the ground near the edge of the steep precipice that marked the edge of the Lower Steppe with a resounding crunch. Lightning, her gun still raised, stalked toward him methodically, not prepared to give the murderous man a moment of respite lest he pull another deadly trick out of his sleeve. Her rifle tracked his movement as he slowly rose from the ground into a feeble crouch. Lightning could see where the bullet had entered his right shoulder, and the remainder of his right arm looked like it had absorbed most of the impact from his indelicate landing; battered, bruised, and more than likely broken. Even in his state of injury, he flashed a wan smile in Lightning's direction before coughing violently and spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground in front of him.

"You know, I'm thinking death is too good for you." His voice still sounded haughty and boastful, despite the fact that he was clearly in a great deal of pain. "Next time I catch up to you, I'm going to test the limits of what that l'Cie body is capable of, Lumpy or not." He tried to laugh but all that escaped his lips was a rasping cough. "You'll wish you'd turned Cie'th before I'm finished. I don't play nice."

"Let's see if you're this talkative when you're being picked out of a Gorgonopsid's teeth," she snarled.

Lightning raised her gunblade toward her shoulder, lining up her killing shot, when the sound of a hurricane erupted from inside the canyon to her right. A titanic gust of wind picked Seraph up off the ground and twisted and tore at him, before throwing him flailing over the edge of the bluff. Lightning ran forward and peered over the edge. She could see Seraph's body, tiny from her perspective, sprawled on the lower Steppe thousands of feet below her, motionless. She turned at the sound of footfalls behind her to see Hope carefully picking his way toward her from out of the gorge into which he'd fallen. He gave her a half-smile.

"I wasn't going to let you have all the fun, Light," he said wearily. Lightning raced over to where he stood and stared widely at him.

"You're okay. But… how?"

"You know, wind mag—" his explanation was cut short as Lightning grasped him firmly by the shoulders and crushed him against her body, face pressed firmly into the crevice of her normally unexposed cleavage. Her brand was hot on his cheek, unnaturally so. Normally he would have told her that such displays were unnecessary, but with his eye mere centimeters from the upper curve of her right breast, he found it difficult to swallow, let alone speak. Lightning seemed not to notice.

After a few moments of being locked into her silent but insistent embrace, Hope felt her grip lessen and he stepped back a few stunned paces.

"I should have known you were tougher than that," Lightning stated. "Are… you okay?" Hope was still wide-eyed, in shock from the intimate proximity he had been in moments earlier. He broke himself free from his trance.

"So, what now? I mean, now that the military wants to stop us and all?"

Lightning shrugged. "That hasn't stopped me before, has it? What about you?"

"I'm with you, no matter what!" Hope replied vigorously. "Just, uh…" he sheepishly gestured toward Lightning's open sweater. Lightning huffed dismissively and turned on point.

"Come on," she said stoically. "We've lost too much time here." She started walking purposefully away from the clearing, but a tinge of red on her cheek told Hope that she was more embarrassed than she would ever be willing to admit.

"Wait for me!" Hope shouted, as he scrambled to retrieve his gunblade. She did not stop.

"Hey, come on, wait up!"

* * *

><p>Seraph groaned as he tried to prop himself up on his elbow. The gravity-dampening device he had on his belt had absorbed most of the shock of his fall, but he had still bounced off of the cliff face a few times on the way down, and was much the worse for wear from it. He struggled to bring his vision into focus, but the brilliantly setting sun burned his eyes and sent a splitting pain through his head. Jamming his eyes shut, he sank back down to the sweet grass. As the pain and exhaustion washed over him and forced him into unconsciousness, his last thought was that that bitch had better hope he was eaten by a predator while he slept. For her sake.<p> 


	5. Army of Two

**Standing at the threshold of the entrance to the secluded valley known as Vallis Media, Lightning couldn't help but hesitate.**

She wouldn't turn back – she knew that much – but she was not looking forward to entering such a populated area, especially since her l'Cie brand was in complete view to any random bystander. She had discarded the ruined sweater the night before as she and Hope had reposed on a high plateau, closer to the sleeping giant known as Cocoon than she had been since she had made her decision to assist colonization efforts in Oerba.

_Or was it my decision after all? _Her thoughts had kept her awake much of that night. _Will PSICOM always be tugging at my strings? _

Lightning had tried to shake off the oppressive feeling of dread that had wormed its way inside of her ever since her altercation with the man claiming himself Seraph. She wanted to write off his banter as another ploy, but some of his words had rung true. She had always thought the Guardian Corps had accepted her back into service so easily, and had considered it a blessing at the time. Now she wasn't so sure.

The strange manner in which Lightning found Hope looking at her had also started that day. She had seen him making odd sideways glances in her direction, only to snap his vision forward whenever she turned toward him. Part of it, she knew, was the symbol on her chest, which before today only herself and Fang had ever seen. Her companions had always been curious about it, and she had been reluctant to reveal it for a number of reasons, so his interest was understandable. But that was not the entire story, she knew. She was not completely naïve to male attention, but it had never really concerned her, and she had never known Hope to view her as anything but a friend and a mentor. The loss of her shirt, however, seemed to make him aware that she was a woman as well. Her jacket still provided her with adequate coverage in the necessary areas, but she was showing more skin than she was accustomed to, and Hope had apparently noticed this as well. _It couldn't have helped that I basically shoved his head into my bosom, either._

Lightning had bigger things to worry about at this point than teenage hormones, however. Cocoon had nearly crashed into the world of Pulse, completely obliterating it, and even though most had now come to terms with the fact that the 'Pulsian menace' was a scare tactic used by the Sanctum to keep them under control, a Pulse l'Cie that had been instrumental in the near apocalypse of their former home would probably not receive a warm welcome.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Hope asked quietly, his eyes staring into the valley before them. "Not of them, I mean, but of what they'll think of you?" Hope directed his gaze at Lightning. "You're not a monster, you know. You never were."

Lightning nodded slowly. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words did not come right away. After a few moments, she began talking quietly, barely perceptible to her young companion.

"It was always harder for all of you. You… Fang… hell, even Snow. Your brands were always right there, for everyone to see. The people knew exactly what you were just looking at you, or thought they knew anyway. But it was easy for me to hide mine. To hope that nobody noticed what I was. Maybe even so I might forget. Doesn't matter now." Her voice became clearer, and there was something else in it too; a strength Hope had not heard from her since the day they had assaulted Eden.

"I'm through hiding."She turned to see Hope looking up at her in admiration.

"You ready to say 'Hi' to the Medians?" Lightning asked. Hope nodded confidently and they both strode toward the secluded valley in step.

Line

There was no gate or wall protecting the entrance to Vallis Media, just a single Guardian Corps soldier leaning up against a grassy knoll absently tapping the visor to his helmet in time with a tune only he could hear. The two heavy ion turrets straddling the high cliff walls on either side of the only road into the settlement did more to deter interlopers than he or any wall ever could. The wild beasts learned very early on to stay away from the humans, which was a shame in his opinion, because a dead Adamanchelid could feed a lot of hungry people. It wasn't too often he saw wanderers come from out in the Steppe. The only people that ever went out there were hunting parties, and he knew all of the hunters by name. So when he saw a young woman and an even younger boy strolling toward him from the unforgiving flatland he took interest. When they had gotten a bit closer and he saw her Corps pauldron displaying her as a lieutenant he took notice. When he saw the mark of the l'Cie on her chest, big as life, he took a step back.

He had heard of this one. Dangerous, they say. Possibly the most dangerous person alive, if you believe some of the stories. Of course, that would just make most guys feel grateful that she was on their side, but that just made most of the guys he heard talk about her very nervous. Like she was a time bomb waiting to go off.

To be honest, she didn't look all that impressive. Well, toughness-wise, anyway. He was very impressed with her body. She moved athletically, gracefully, as a wild animal barely tamed. She did not step with feminine grace, but a grace that transcended femininity, that had no need for its trappings.

As she grew close enough for him to get a good look at her face, he changed both his opinion of her sexuality, and of her threat level. It was like a ghost looking out of the eyes of a beautiful woman. A ghost that had forgotten what it was like to be human. He didn't like it.

She stopped in front of him before he even realized he was standing at attention. He didn't remember doing that, but now that he was, he didn't want to relax. She commanded it. Not with words, so much, but her eyes, her… _presence. _She was standing there, looking at him, looking through him. He started sweating in spite of himself. She and the kid both looked kind of beat up, a bit the worse for wear, and they were getting impatient watching him stand there. She said something. She wanted to come into town.

There were standing orders… well, not orders, per se, but it was well understood that if anyone in the Media saw her they were to report immediately to Central Command. She was supposed to stay in Oerba; at least that's what he'd heard. But here she was, and not only was she getting irritated, she _outranked_ him.

He offered a quick salute and stepped aside, almost without thinking about it. She and the kid just brushed right past him, having already forgotten he even existed. It was all he could do to keep from breathing a sigh of relief. He'd report this, but not until she was out of earshot. Well out of earshot.

He watched them as they walked away, toward the main part of town. He liked her a lot better from this side.

Line

"That wasn't so bad," Hope said optimistically.

"He's going to report us," Lightning shot back immediately, still walking purposefully away from the sentry. "I'm not sure what that means for us, but all the Guardian Corps in town are going to know we're here soon."

"So then… you believe what Seraph said? About you not being allowed to leave Oerba?" Lightning gritted her teeth upon hearing Hope speak his name. Even thinking about him clearly angered her.

"Everything he said might have been a lie," she snapped back angrily. Although Hope knew the anger wasn't directed at him, she made a visible effort to bring her voice back down to her normal tone. "That doesn't mean we won't be cautious, though. Stay close to me." Hope nodded his assent.

Lightning looked around. Seemingly without noticing it, they had come into the outskirts of Vallis Media. The valley was lined on both sides with booths set up with people selling any number of items, most of them silent, some of them shouting advertisements to the people milling about. There weren't too many people at these outer kiosks, one or two browsers, maybe. The main action was in the Bazaar, up ahead. Lightning stuck close to the center of the walkway, away from the hawkers, and Hope followed close behind.

They remembered this place. Not how it was now, but how it used to be. Tranquil glades, silent ruins, and murmuring streams were all that had greeted them the last time they were here. The scene before them was anything but tranquil or silent.

A central market was set up in the center of main area, with many booths radiating outward like spokes on a giant wheel. Climbing the walls of the valley were some homes, built halfway into the rock and soil. People teemed about the area, clamoring and bustling, trying to make it to the sale they wanted to get to before all of the good product was gone.

_Life goes on. _Lightning couldn't help but smile, despite herself. Not a single one of these people, just a year ago, would have thought in just twelve short months they would be shopping for fresh pinemelon on the surface of Gran Pulse. But here they were, negotiating lower prices for newfound Pulsian delicacies.

Lightning pushed through the throng as gently as she could, not particularly wanting to get anyone's attention. She and Hope emerged from the roiling crowd on the far side of the market and continued further into the valley, toward where she assumed the air station was. The pressing mass of people shopping gave way to scattered homes and lean-tos built mostly along the valley walls. Many were still under construction, steel skeletons and wooden husks jutting up from the earth. Lightning had to marvel at the progress this place had made, all without the help of the Fal'Cie. She had to admit, she had been worried. She wasn't sure the people of Cocoon would be ready to take responsibility for their life into their own hands so readily. Oerba was a backwater burg compared to this place, and Lightning had to assume that the reason this place was so far along in comparison was its proximity to the Pillar.

The Pillar. That's what they called the crystal tower that held Cocoon aloft in the sky. Due to conflicting reports after the collapse of Eden, along with the dearth of information from anyone who actually knew anything about the truth behind the incident, nobody really knew what had happened, or what had spared Cocoon its fate. Some speculated Fal'Cie intervention; some even thought it was some anti-Pulse countermeasure programmed into Cocoon's very shell. The most prevailing theory, however, had given birth to the Church of New Phoenicia.

The Phoenecians believed that it was nothing less than intervention on behalf of the Maker that held the world aloft. That was the reason for the frequent civilian shuttles to this area, the closest town to the Pillar. Many people – even those who chose to stay on Cocoon – made pilgrimages to the base of the Pillar. It was about half a day's chocobo ride from Vallis Media, and as a result chocobo breeding and rental were a huge business here, even on the verge of creating chocobo barons, fat from the proceeds of their exploitative business. Lightning couldn't blame the believers though, not fully. Even though it pained her to know that the true saviors of Cocoon would not be recognized for their actions, she understood the people's desire to find meaning in the horrific events that led up to the Fall.

_And when they wake up they won't need people bowing at their feet. They never wanted that._

Finally, they came to a clearing with an impromptu docking station integrated into the fallen ruins of some old Pulsian architecture, which must have served as the landing site for the civilian ferry. There were some people gathered in the area, a few sitting in the grass scattered about the glen, and a few queued up near the ruins.

"Shuttle must be arriving soon," Lightning remarked to Hope, who was preoccupied reading a marked board tacked up onto a signpost near the spot where they had entered.

"You're right," he replied. "This says it'll be here in… fifteen minutes." He looked up at Lightning and smiled. "Good timing."

"Yeah," she scoffed kindly. "Me and my perfect plans. Well, let's get in line. We don't want to miss our boat."

Lightning led Hope to their place behind the other people waiting for the transport ship to land. She stretched languidly, trying to let a little bit of the tension she'd been feeling ever since they entered the town leave her body. It didn't work; and she found herself crossing and uncrossing her arms and shifting her weight repeatedly, unable to get comfortable. She didn't like waiting. She never had. That one trait had probably gotten her in more trouble than anything else she'd done, but it kept her going. It was the reason why, when they had all become l'Cie, she could continue. Because she couldn't ever stop.

The man in front of them in line, about middle-age and dressed like a tradesman, noticed Lightning's Guardian Corps rank insignia on her shoulder and tried to strike up a conversation.

"Why hello there, miss," he said cordially. He continued. "I would like to extend personally my gratitude toward the Guardian Corps. You folks really have done quite the job to get things up and running after that horrible disaster. I and my family truly appreciate it." He held out a hand toward Lightning. As she turned fully toward the man to offer her hand in return he got a glimpse of her chest and his hand retreated so quickly Lightning thought he was going to tip over. His face became ghostly white as he regarded her.

"You… you're one of them. One of the ones who caused the Calamity. I remember your face now. My god…" He crouched down and reached his arms toward Hope, all the while staring at Lightning in a disgusting mixture of fear and hatred. "Quickly son, come here. You're in great danger. You have no idea what this _thing _is capable of." He waved his hands urgently, gesturing for Hope to move away from his companion. His reaction had also caught the attention of the other people waiting, and they all began backing away from the stranger with great unease. Lightning stood dumbfounded, completely taken aback at the reaction her presence was causing.

"Come on!" The man shouted, much more aggressively. "Don't you know about the Calamity? She caused it! She and her l'Cie army!"

"Her 'l'Cie army', huh?" Hope called back. He slowly pulled his sleeve back to reveal his own scarred brand, dully refracting the midday sun. "I guess you're talking about me."

The man, who just a few moments ago was reaching frantically for the boy was now recoiling in horror as if Hope had turned into a Cie'th right before his very eyes. The rest of the small crowd appeared similarly shocked and began looking around nervously.

"Stop it!" Lightning's commanding tone caused the people to stop cowering for a moment, completely taken aback by her. "What are you so afraid of? Do you even know?" The sound of an approaching repulsor engine began to dominate the air, and Lightning had so start shouting to be heard over the din.

"What is the difference between me and you? A tattoo. You're scared of this?" Lightning punctuated by pounding a fist onto her own sternum. "The Sanctum lied to you. You're here on Pulse, so you know that now. Why are you still so eager to believe them still? Yes, we're l'Cie, but we're human as well. This mark can't change that." The crowd looked nervously at each other, but was otherwise still, even while the 12-passenger aircraft spit dust and grass violently around them as it settled into the docking station. The win swirled her pinkish hair ethereally around her face and whipped her crimson half-cloak behind her like a flag, proclaiming this spot in the name of her sovereign nation.

"Then tell us, l'Cie," the man shouted back, "if you didn't cast Cocoon toward Pulse, who did?"

"I can tell you who caught it. It was l'Cie. L'Cie saved Cocoon from its fate. _Pulse _l'Cie, just like me."

The transport craft settled onto the ground and left the clearing in complete still silence. The people standing in the clearing appeared to have completely forgotten why they had come here, and when the aircraft's door swung open nobody even seemed to notice. They all stood stalk-still like clipped grass, waiting to see which direction the wind would blow them.

The man who had spoken to Lightning took two steps toward her. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but it wasn't words that left his mouth. The spat toward Lightning, the sticky phlegm spattering on her bare chest.

"Your lies sicken me," he growled, barely sounding human. "If you plan to take this shuttle, you take it alone, lest you attempt to swat it out of the sky as well. But believe me – the maker will not catch you this time." He slowly turned and walked out of the clearing. One by one, the other people waiting for the ship followed him. The folks who had just arrived from on the shuttle shuffled off as well, taking care to give the two l'Cie a wide berth. Soon, the glade was empty save the two companions, and Lightning slowly reached her right hand up to her chest and wiped away the spittle. Hope opened his mouth to speak, but could not find any words that didn't sound completely hollow to him. After a few moments just soaking in all that had just happened, they quietly entered the shuttle.

_There was nothing else to say. Nothing he could say. I wanted to show him that we could change the world, one person at a time. All I showed him was what he had already known about people. They were afraid. Afraid of what they didn't understand. _

Lightning and Hope took their seats in the small craft and noiselessly clasped their safety harnesses. Lighting entered the proper amount of credits into the console in front of her and Hope, and the monitor before them glowed green, indicating their sufficient payment. After a minute or two of sitting in silence, the captain's voice echoed throughout the ship.

"So, it's just two today? Small load for a return trip, but I suppose I'm not one to complain." The voice was gruff but kind, and both Lightning and Hope exchanged a meaningful glance. "Now, make sure you two are buckled in. I don't like filling out injury forms." Lightning extricated herself from the safety belt and started toward the cockpit to the sound of the engines roaring to life.

"Now, what did I just say?" came the voice again. "You can't expect me to take off with you wandering around the…" Lightning stepped into the piloting cabin and the captain stopped his admonitions mid-sentence. Hope burst into the front of the aircraft moments later, nearly knocking Lightning off of her feet.

"Hey Sazh! Surprised to see us?"

"Yeah, kid. That's one word to describe it."


	6. Who Dares, Wins

**Hope sat in the passenger section of the aircraft, watching a Cocoon news broadcast on one of the seat-back monitors.**

Lightning occupied the copilot seat next to Sazh, who was preparing for liftoff.

_He looks better than I've ever seen him. He looks… happy. _She regarded him while he concentrated on balancing the repulsor jets in an effort to get them into the air smoothly. Sazh was wearing his trademark forest-green longcoat and was still sporting a puffy afro atop his head. The lines that cut his face so deeply during their journey had now softened, and he even looked a bit more youthful.

"So you're a transport pilot now." It wasn't really a question, but Sazh responded nonetheless.

"Yeah. Not too many good pilots left after all that mayhem went down at Eden. Figured, 'why not'? Someone's gotta help these folks out. I see trouble is still following you around, same as always." Lightning cast her eyes downward and forced an empty smile.

"That's me. Always the center of attention."

"Now listen here," Sazh admonished, his expression stern. "I don't know what happened down there, but I can only assume it had something to do with this." He gestured pointedly at the brand on Lightning's chest. "And that's not your fault. Hell, we were all caught up in something way bigger than ourselves back then. You can't blame yourself any more than you blame the rest of us, Soldier." The craft lifted gently and began to accelerate. Lightning looked at Sazh and smiled again, this time a bit more honestly.

"I see you're flying solo now," Lightning remarked. Sazh ran his hand through his hair and sighed wistfully.

"Yeah, turns out she just can't get enough of the little guy." Sazh laughed almost to himself. "I knew they'd get along great. I'm just waiting for the day when I come home to a full-grown chocobo pecking holes in my furniture." Sazh paused, deciding how to say what he wanted to say. "She has a name now. Dadj picked it out. Said it came to him in a dream, while he was crystal. He said he met her in a field of flowers. That she took care of him and kept him safe while he waited for me."

"He named her Serah."

Lightning's look of shock was replaced by a look of greater shock as the ship's speaker system emitted a loud screech. The sound abruptly stopped and was replaced by a booming, commanding voice.

"PNC Nautilus, this is the CMC Eternal. I repeat, this is the CMC Eternal, cruiser-class ship in service of the Guardian Corps. You are hereby ordered to land and relinquish your passengers." Sazh looked over to Lightning with an accusing glance.

"When I said trouble was still following you around, I didn't mean like this! I thought you were in the Corps! What gives?" Lightning merely sat still, with a shocked look on her face._ I didn't think they would go this far. Are they really this afraid of me? _Should _they be?_ "Hey! Pulse to Lightning! What's the deal?" Lightning turned toward Sazh, a hopeless look draining the color from her face. The loudspeaker once again roared to life.

"PNC Nautilus, you will be given one final warning. Land your ship immediately, or we will open fire."

Lightning and Sazh craned their necks around trying to look out of the cockpit. Some distance behind them – but gaining rapidly – was the Eternal, a mid-sized ship, flanked by many smaller Interceptor class vessels, buzzing around the Eternal like wasps on a hive. Sazh looked to Lightning again and fixed her with a wide-eyed stare.

"No, no no no no no no! It can't go down like this! We'll never make it to Cocoon before these guys shoot us out of the sky!" Before Sazh even knew she had moved, Lightning was standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder. She gave him a reassuring nod.

"Land the ship," she ordered calmly. "What I'm trying to do is important, but it's not worth your life. You have a son to take care of." Sazh nodded grimly.

"Yeah, I know."

Lightning walked into the back cabin where Hope was pressed against one of the side windows, watching the inexorable approach of the Guardian Corps attack force. He turned toward Lightning as she entered, a nervousness in his eyes she hadn't seen since the Vile Peaks. _He's not afraid for himself now. It's me he's worried about. I'm worried about me too._

"I've told Sazh to take us down. I'm surrendering, Hope. I'll make sure you get back to your father, you have my word." Hope's face was nearly ashen, and he could do nothing but nod. _Back then it was so much simpler. There was only one path for any of us to take: fight. Now it's not so simple. _Lightning was surrounded by a chorus of the same voice, broadcast from every terminal in the cabin simultaneously.

"This is your final warning. Change course now or be destroyed." There was a crackle and silence, then Sazh's voice sounded over the speakers, responding to the threat.

"This is Sazh Katzroy of the PNC Nautilus. I have received your transmission and am changing vector to land now." Hope slumped down into one of the seats as the ship decelerated and changed pitch, looking defeated.

"Message received, Katzroy. We will escort you to a landing spot. Out" Sazh turned and looked back into the cabin, a rueful expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this." Lightning's look of acceptance was replaced by one of surprise as the cockpit door whisked shut. She sprinted forward and attempted to pry the door open, but it was sealed shut from the inside. She began pounding on it frantically.

"Sazh! What are you doing? Sazh!" She heard Sazh's reply, muffled by the thick metal that lay between them.

"I could never look Dadj in the face if I just gave you up like that! But don't worry. _Dads are tough!_"

Lightning's gunblade was in her hand before she even thought to draw it. It sat there like a useless lump of metal, heavy and inert. _I guess this thing can't solve all of my problems. _Except…

She raised the Ultima Weapon to strike the barrier in front of her, but was thrown off of her feet by the sudden acceleration of the ship. The blade went clattering across the cabin floor and Lightning grunted loudly as her already sore ribs collided with an armrest.

* * *

><p>The guard at the gate of Vallis Media stared up at the spectacle above him. When he had reported the Lieutenant's arrival in the valley had had no idea it would turn into a full military operation. He saw the transport ship gun its engines in an attempt to flee from the intercept force. It seemed to actually take them off guard for a second. But only for a second. The Corps was on his tail, now. No more warnings.<p>

Still, they weren't firing their weapons. Must not have gotten a fire order. Not surprising, considering there could be civilians on that ship. They weren't PSICOM, after all. They weren't willing to sacrifice people so easily.

A sound coming from behind him caused the guard to snap out of his reverie. He quickly and clumsily tightened the grip on his firearm and turned toward the noisy intruder.

It was just a man, but he didn't look too well off. He was limping, dragging one foot semi-uselessly behind him, and his clothes were ripped in many places, revealing body-length scrapes underneath. The sentry took a step toward him and was about to offer his assistance when he noticed the man was smiling. The smiling man was not happy. He dragged himself up to the guard and seized him roughly by the collar. His strength was surprising considering the condition he was in. His other hand pointed to the sky.

"Why are they not firing?" Completely taken aback by this man's aggressive nature, the guard struggled to stammer out a reply.

"It's… uh… it's their orders. No firing on… uh… ci-civilian ships." The injured man released the guard and reached to his broken belt, which appeared to hold many weapons and devices that the guard had thought were proprietary military technologies. He opened a small case and drew something out, showing it to the guard. Immediately, the Corps member snapped to attention. The injured man leaned toward him and whispered very softly. His tone wasn't the least bit threatening, yet it carried the weight of a thousand threats beneath it.

"I don't care if that ship is transporting orphans to a mission. Have them start shooting. Now. I want that ship taken down." As the injured man hobbled past the security checkpoint the young guard began relaying the man's words to his command post.

He'd never met a member of Sigma before, and judging from that encounter, he'd be perfectly happy if he didn't meet any of them ever again.

* * *

><p>Hope turned toward Lightning, wide-eyed and a bit frantic.<p>

"They're just following us. Why?" Lightning considered the question for a moment before answering.

"They must not be willing to blow up a civilian transport right above a colony settlement. Maybe Sazh knew that before he started running. Either way, it won't last." As if she was holding up a cosmic cue-card, Sazh veered the ship sharply to port, and a hail of bullets harmlessly whizzed past the craft. The screens in the passenger cabin once again crackled to life. A visibly sweaty Sazh appeared on the monitors.

"Okay, I thought they'd give me more time. There's no way I'm making to Cocoon now, and going back to Pulse just isn't happening. So… hold on to something." The ship bucked again and nearly threw Lightning into the center aisle. Projectiles continued streaming by the windows as their pursuers tracked their target.

"What is he doing?" Hope yowled, distraught. "He's flying _away _from Cocoon!" Lighting looked past Hope and saw that he was correct; the massive broken globe was getting smaller.

"Without cover, this won't last long," Lightning lamented. "Dammit... why didn't he listen to me? I was trying to protect him." She clenched her fist, but couldn't hold onto her anger. _He's doing it for me. Whether I want him to or not._

The cabin rocked again, and once again Sazh was forced to adjust his flight path violently to avoid the salvos being launched by the military ships.

"Almost… there," Sazh's voice over the intercom sounded taut, but confident. _What does he know that I don't? Where-_

"No." The word escaped from her lips almost involuntarily. Hope was sitting right next to her and hadn't heard her utter it. He heard the next time, though.

"NO!"Lightning screamed and leapt at the cabin door like a Managarmr tearing into a prey animal. She beat at it furiously for a few moments before sliding down onto her knees. Hope couldn't see her face, but her posture seemed completely defeated.

"What is it, Light?" he asked carefully."What's he going to do?"

"The Fifth Ark," she stated matter-of-factly. "He's heading for the gate that brought us to Pulse in the first place." Hope looked confused.

"But – isn't that good? That means we have a chance!" Lightning shook her head wearily, still unable to find the strength to look up.

"Fifth Ark was destroyed during the final battle on Cocoon. Cocoon _moved. _The other side could be inside a mountain. It might even be destroyed completely." The words slowly penetrated Hope, and his look transformed from one of befuddlement to one of horror. Again, the ship shuddered as minor impacts rattled the hull. _Not long now. The gate will destroy us, if the Corps doesn't do it first._

* * *

><p>Seraph was crumpled against a rock, letting the Cure orb perform its duty. His leg screamed out in pain as the bone was slowly knitted together, but he barely noticed. His eyes were focused on the battle in the sky. They were far now, but his vision was enhanced by a telescopic lens he had pulled over his right eye. 'Battle' was a silly word for it. It was more like a pack of vermin descending upon a lone morsel of food. Only this food ran away. Fairly competently, too. Seraph made a note that he would have to find out who the pilot was, so he could kill his family later, on principle.<p>

He could tell the chase was almost over. The craft was listing heavily, and more and more bullets were finding their mark.

And then it was gone. He adjusted the amplification, but this was no input error. The ship had flown into a symbol that hung in the air, as if written by the hand of some unknown god. One of the pursuit ships flew in after them, but the rest broke off unsteadily, back to base, most likely. Seraph pulled the lens from his face and let it drop next to him. He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the hard stone behind him.


	7. Fashion Show!

"**I'll never figure out how you found us down there," Sazh sighed, "but I'm not going to look a gift chocobo in the mouth."**

Rygdea regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "Us Cavalry boys gotta keep a keen eye out these days. There's not many of us left and we're not exactly welcome 'round Cocoon, ya know?"

They were all seated in the galley of a medium-sized aircraft as it cruised steadily across the crystallized surface of Lake Bresha. Three of them were sitting in soft booth seats; only Lightning remained standing. She leaned back against the wall near the passageway to the cockpit, feigning relaxation. _There's no reason to trust them any more than there was to trust Seraph. _Her arms were crossed over her chest, one hand lightly resting on the handle of the survival knife concealed in the inner pocket of her jacket.

"I don't get it," Hope said, peeking over the back of the seat he was kneeling on, "I mean, I know why people are still mad at us, but why you guys?"

Rygdea stretched back, resting his boots on the table. "Killing the leader of the people doesn't really breed trust, lad. Even if he was just a puppet." He sighed heavily before continuing. "Plus, we took part in the assault on Eden. For all the good it did anyone."

His story rang true to Lightning, and of all the people she met, she _wanted _to trust this man. He appeared casual, even flippant, but Lightning remembered him from before the Exodus. He was a fierce man; loyal, and brave. His attire was more rural than befitting of a normal soldier, but she suspected it just showed his roots. He was a man who was caught up in something, swept along in events that were bigger than him. _I certainly know what that's like. _And he _had _pulled them out of a mess on more than one occasion, including the one they had been in after they came through the gate.

It had put them in a crystal hollow, below the lake's crust. Sazh had the reflexes and the piloting skill to change course before they had slammed into one of the walls, and even though the jagged floor had torn large strips out of the hull, they had remained largely unharmed, at least nothing outside the realm of Hope's healing magic. The other pilot had not been quite as good. Luckily for them, however, his impact had blown open a hole in the side of the hollow, and they had walked right out onto the lake surface. The familiarity of the situation had not been lost on any of them, and Sazh had made numerous comments suggesting as much. Luckily, they hadn't been traveling long before they had been able to flag down Rygdea's ship. _No doubt the explosion led them right to us. _That had been the first time she had ever been _glad _to have pursuers.

Sazh spoke up. "So, you wouldn't mind dropping an old man off outside Palumpolum, would you? I'm going to need to hire a salvage team to come out here and piece my baby back together," he frowned. "I sure hope she can be fixed."

"I never asked you to help us," Lightning snapped, a bit too viciously. Sazh quickly raised his arms in a gesture of surrender.

"Hey, guns up, Soldier. I wasn't trying to lay it on you. Just making a plan."

Lightning sighed. "I know. It's just… you shouldn't have risked it."

Sazh scoffed at her. "I'll take that as a thank you. It's probably the closest I'll get."

"Alright," Rygdea chimed in, "So that's one for Palumpolum. Where's everyone else headed?"

"I go where she goes," Hope replied, and everyone turned their eyes toward Lightning. She had already decided where she needed to go next. Her mission was important, but… something Sazh had said. She had to know.

"Bodhum," she said matter-of-factly.

"Okay, I'll let the pilot in on our itinerary." Rygdea hopped out of his seat so quickly that Lightning nearly drew her dagger. Too fast, for someone who had just been so relaxed. _He likes to cultivate an air of familiarity, but he's just another antlion in the den. Too many antlions, all fighting over the same scraps of meat. _She clenched her hand tightly on the hilt of her knife, but released it nonetheless. _Well I can sting just as hard as any of them. Just ask Dysley. _As Rygdea was passing by her on the way to the cockpit, he paused.

"You know," he said softly, "if you come to the crew quarters after this I think I have something that will fit you." Lightning stared dumbfounded at him, at a complete loss to how to respond. He saw her confusion and quickly elaborated. "Your shirt," he casually pointed at her cleavage. "I noticed you were missing some clothing there. That is, unless you're going for the whole shirtless look now, which I recommend, by the way."

Lightning stiffened. Her jaw was set, and Sazh and Hope winced, expecting the worst, but she just pushed herself away from the wall and said, "Fine," before stalking off. She heard Rygdea laugh behind her.  
>"High-strung, isn't she?"<p>

* * *

><p>There wasn't much of a crew to speak of on the cruiser, but even that wouldn't have explained the deserted crew cabin. Lightning had only been waiting for ten minutes or so, and that's apparently all the time it took for word to get around the ship that this was where she was, because nobody had come through for the last eight of those minutes. <em>Even the Cavalry is wary of me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. <em>She found that it stung all the same. Rygdea's rescue and his welcome had done enough to fool Lightning into thinking there were people who thought more of the l'Cie than a threat to be dealt with. _Never forget._

It wasn't too much longer before Rygdea entered the barracks. "Oh good, you're already here," he grinned shamelessly. "Maker only knows what kind of trouble you l'Cie can get into running loose about a ship." Lightning glared sharply.

"Did you ask me back here just to make stupid remarks, or did you actually have something for me?"

Rygdea nodded and strode past her, unfazed by her anger. He stood in front of one of the lockers and pulled on a slender chain he wore around his neck. A small key tumbled out from the top of his shirt, and he used it to open the storage unit. He spoke without looking at her. "You know, if you never accept yourself, how is anybody else ever going to accept you?"

Lightning sneered. "I don't need anybody's acceptance. Certainly not yours."

Rygdea pulled what looked like a metal shell from the locker, swung it shut, and turned to face her. "Don't you?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow. "The kid knows he's a l'Cie. I can tell he's almost proud of it. The old man has left it behind. It doesn't burden him anymore, but you… you can't decide who you want to be."

"I know who I am," Lighting retorted. She caught the bundle that Rygdea tossed her.

"Maybe you've convinced them of that, and maybe you've even nearly convinced yourself. Or maybe I'm wrong. Hell, what do I know?" He brought his hands up behind his neck and jerked his head in the direction of a short hallway with stalls at the end. "You can change in there."

On her way in, Lightning checked to make sure there weren't any doors that could be locked or sealed behind her before entering one of the bathroom stalls on her left. She closed the lid of the toilet and placed the cargo shell on it before depressing the button that caused it to slide open. When she saw what was inside she gasped slightly.

"This… this looks rare. Why give it to me?" she called from inside the restroom. Rygdea's bark of laughter sounded a bit hollow.

"You don't see any other women on board, do you? Wouldn't want it going to waste."

A frown creased Lightning's face, but she began taking off her gunblade belt and jacket all the same. _"_Where did you get this then?"

"It was a gift," Rygdea's voice sounded wistful. "Not _for _me, _from _me. To my fiancé."

Lightning paused momentarily while strapping on the padded undergarment. "What?"

"She was with us during the attack at Eden," Rygdea continued. "She insisted on joining the assault, and there was no telling that one what to do. After the dust had settled, I found her there. What must have been her, anyway. There was a Cie'th standing in a pile of her things." There was a long pause before he continued. "She… it… attacked us. I had to put it down. I couldn't just leave her things there, though. So I took them with me, and now it looks like they'll be put to some use at least." She could almost hear the sad smile on his lips. "I had it custom-made, you know. I thought it would protect her. Maybe it'll serve you better."

Lightning finished dressing and restrapped her weapon behind her. "I'm sorry…" she said dumbly. It was all she could think of _to _say. She reached into the folds of her jacket and pulled out the survival knife, clenching it in her hand briefly before securing it in a sheath at her side. She stepped out of the stall and Rygdea greeted her with a wide, approving grin.

"Hey, what's happened, happened ma'am. And I must say you wear it every bit as well as she did."

Lightning still wore the same skirt and boots, but now her upper body was covered in a gleaming shell of armor. The basic part of the armor covered just her torso, but it was constructed to favor the left side. Her left shoulder had an armored pad that was designed to carry a military ranking pauldron, where hers now rested. On the left side a half-collar jutted up from the shoulder, covering her neck and the bottom of her jaw, while a half-skirt of hardened mail came from the left side of her waist, covering her leg down to mid-thigh. She half-grimaced and half-blushed at the look Rygdea gave her and she angrily pointed to her chest in half-shame. "This is a joke, right? The rest of the armor is perfect, why is this here?" She was pointing at a circular window in the armor, right where her l'Cie brand was, completely visible to anyone with a passing fancy. In fact, it almost seemed like a target, screaming _"Hey, look at me, I'm l'Cie! Also, cleavage!"_

Rygdea merely laughed. "I knew you'd love that. Actually, that's the best part." In a blur of action that caught Lightning off-guard, he drew his sidearm and in one fluid motion fired it at her chest. The next few seconds saw Rygdea pinned up against a row of bunks, with Lightning's forearm pressed across his windpipe. His pistol was lying across the room, and Lightning's dagger was pressed under his ribs.

"One reason not to kill you right now," she seethed. "One reason or you'll follow your fiancé to the afterlife." _Never forget._

Rygdea choked out a response. "Look… down." Lightning didn't want to take her eyes off of him, but after a moment, realized what he was getting at. She had felt no pain from the gunshot. She glanced at her chest and saw nothing there, no wound, no blood. Her forearm lifted slightly off of Rygdea's neck, and he swallowed a lungful of air.

"Explain," Lightning stated, in a tone that brooked no argument.

"It's… crystal." Rygdea gasped. "It's an alloy… they made it from one of the pieces that broke off after… they dug Serah out of Lake Bresha." He coughed and recomposed himself. "It's impervious. See, there's not even a scratch on it from the bullet. And completely transparent, but you figured that part out."

Lightning slowly pulled the knife away from the man's chest, and was surprised to see a small line of blood smeared on the tip. "Wouldn't it have been easier – and smarter – to just tell me?"

Rygdea shrugged. "I'm a man of action. Besides, would you wouldn't trust it unless I showed it in action."

"Did I have to be wearing it to demonstrate it?" she shot back. Rygdea laughed.

"No, I suppose you didn't. But now you have a story to tell, yeah?"

A noise from behind Lightning caused them both to look toward the doorway as it slid open and Hope burst into the crew quarters, spectral fire shimmering in the air around his left hand.

"Light!" he shouted as he slid to a halt. "Are you…?" his voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. Lightning, pressing close to Rygdea, who was pinned against the bunks, their faces inches apart. Hope's hands tightened into fists, and the ghostly flames danced brightly up his arm, fanning his face and casting disquieting shadows on the wall. His voice sounded less compassionate now, almost cold. "...What's going on? Light?"

Light pulled away from Rygdea, almost too hastily. Rygdea began massaging his neck, and by his wincing, it appeared to be quite sore. Light turned toward Hope and he saw the knife, the small smear of blood absorbing the flickering light from the magical fire.

"We… fought." Light explained awkwardly. "I won." Hope's magic died down somewhat, but did not completely extinguish.

"I heard a gunshot."

"Like I said," Lightning explained somewhat feebly, cleaning and sheathing her dagger. "He learned his lesson."

Hope eyed Lightning's armor, but made no comment. Instead, he said, "Well, we're getting ready to dock outside Palumpolum, if you want to say goodbye to Sazh."

"Sure, " she smiled, semi-convincingly. _What the hell am I so ashamed of? I didn't do anything wrong. And even if I had, what exactly would have been wrong about it? _"I'll be out in a minute." Hope stood unmoving for a moment, before slowly nodding and as he pivoted on his heels and walked out of the room he waved his hand and the flames guttered out. The door slid shut behind him. Lightning turned toward Rygdea to see him stooping to pick up his pistol. He straightened and tapped the side of the barrel to his forehead.  
>"You may look similar, but you really aren't much like her, you know?"<p>

"Who?" the question sounded stupid to her as soon as she uttered it. Rygdea simply smiled.

"Emilie. She would have just killed me, not bothered with the threats."

"Sounds like a smart woman," Lightning retorted.

"She certainly was."

Lightning looked as if she was about to leave, but hesitated. "Thank you," she muttered. "For the armor.

Rygdea holstered his weapon and he met her eyes. "You know, armor isn't for destroying. It's for protecting. Remember that." He tossed her a final piece, what appeared to be a thick metal strip with two straps attached, one at either end.

Lightning smiled softly.

"I will."

_Never forget. _It was harder that time.


End file.
